Portraits
by AmericanPi
Summary: A series of one-shots paying homage to various characters I've submitted to Hunger Games SYOTs. This project is discontinued because from now on if I want to honor a character I'll write their own, separate story. Feedback is still greatly appreciated!
1. Lily White

**A/N:** **Here's my tribute to my first fallen tribute, Lily White of District 11. Feedback is appreciated! Without further ado, please enjoy Portraits of Panem.**

* * *

Tribute Statistics

 **Name:** Lily White  
 **District:** 11 **  
Gender Reaped as:** Female  
 **Age:** 16 **  
First completed story submitted to:** _Into Thin Air: The Forty-Second Hunger Games_ by LadyCordeliaStuart **  
Training Score:** 5 **  
Kills:** 0 **  
Cause of death:** Hypothermia  
 **Time of death:** Day 2 **  
Placement:** 16th

* * *

The oppressively hot sun bore down onto Daisy White as the twelve-year-old girl ambled through the dirt-covered streets of District Eleven, her tattered sandals kicking up fine clouds of dry dust. She came to rest in the shadow of one of the many shacks in the section of the District she was in. This neighborhood was crowded with the humble residences of many families of poor harvesters, who on a normal day would be toiling in the orchards and working in the fields. Today, however, was Reaping Day, so the residents of District 11 were granted a brief reprieve from their labor. Few people were milling about the streets, most of them electing to spend the day with their families as they prepared for the Reaping and the long, agonizing days afterwards.

Daisy shivered, even though the strong sun was high in the sky. This would be her first Reaping, and considering the amount of tesserae she had taken to help feed her impoverished family, the odds were definitely not in her favor. Her sister, Lily, was sixteen and had taken even more tesserae, accumulated over the years. Despite Lily's higher chance of being Reaped, Daisy mostly worried for herself. She knew that she would be dead meat if she were chosen to compete in this year's Hunger Games. Besides, this was her first Reaping, and Daisy hoped that she wouldn't accidentally do anything that would land the White family into trouble. Sure, Daisy had watched Lily go through the Reaping process four times before, but the Peacekeepers in Eleven were strict. One small slip-up, even an accidental one, could be life-threatening.

Daisy heard a chirp above her head. She looked up and smiled. A family of birds was making a mud nest between the wall and the roof of the nearest shack. Daisy recognized the birds as Barn Swallows. Lily, who loved animals and nature, had taught Daisy the name of these swift, iridescent blue-and-orange birds. Thanks to her sister, Daisy was becoming quite the animal lover herself. Barn Swallows were a common sight in District 11 - they loved making their mud nests under the eaves of the many old buildings in the District - and nobody really had the time or heart to shoo away the birds. Daisy wondered how many people actually knew the names of the birds that often built nests on the buildings in the District. Most District residents, Daisy included, didn't exactly have the time to stand around observing birds, when so many crops had to be tended to and shipped off to the Capitol. If there was one thing Daisy appreciated about Reaping Day, it was the much-needed time to be spent preparing oneself for the ordeal that was to come.

Daisy stood and watched the busy swallows until her legs began to ache from standing in one place for too long. She started, suddenly worried. The Reaping was soon. Daisy sighed and bid a silent farewell to the lucky swallows, who would never have to worry about being Reaped. She walked home quickly, her sandals kicking up dust clouds as she went.

vVv

"Daisy, you're back!" Daisy's mother, Magnolia, said, embracing her youngest child as she shuffled through the front door of the White residence. To call it a residence was quite unfitting, because the place the Whites lived in was more like a barn. Daisy smiled and glanced around the small room, which could barely hold the family. Her face fell as she spotted her sister crossing her arms and glaring at her father, a single pear resting on the rickety table between them.

"Oh, no," Daisy groaned, trotting over to Lily's side and holding her hand. "Did Dad steal from the orchards _again_?"

"Yes," Lily sighed, ruffling Daisy's dark brown curls. She gave her father, Leif, another reproachful look and said quietly, "Dad, seriously, how many times do I have to tell you not to do this? You could have been caught and whipped, and you just got whipped a month ago."

"But I wasn't caught," Daisy's father said stubbornly. "Reaping Day is always a good day to get the food we need. Most of the Peacekeepers go to the square, so if you're sneaky enough you can grab a fruit or two without being noticed."

"And if they _had_ noticed you, you would be bedridden for weeks," Lily said sternly, grabbing the pear and giving it to her mother. "We can't afford that." She glanced at Magnolia. "Mom, cut up the pear so that you, me, and Daisy each have a third. Make sure Dad doesn't get any."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lily," Magnolia said as she grabbed a knife and began cutting the fruit. "Your father was the one who got this in the first place. He should have at least half of it, for providing for the family."

"Yeah, but if he had gotten caught, which would have happened if he hadn't lucked out, we wouldn't have this pear at all," Lily complained. She sighed, sat down at the table, and put her head in her hands. "Mom, Dad, if you keep this up you'll be killed! Why don't you realize that our first priority should be keeping all of us safe?"

Magnolia sighed, handing part of the pear to Leif. "I guess we just value different things, Lily, my dear," she said as Leif began eating the piece of fruit. "Me and Dad are willing to take whippings to provide for the family. We'd much rather die of a bullet to the head than of starvation. That's just the way we are."

"I don't think that's right," Daisy chipped in. "I don't wanna be whipped." She swallowed. "Or Reaped."

Lily stood up, faced her sister, and hugged her tightly. "I know you have the sense stay safe no matter what, sis," she said lovingly. She broke away from Daisy and glanced towards the back of the one-room shack, where the clothes sat in piles on the rickety beds. "I'll go get ready for the Reaping. Come on, Daisy. Let me help you."

"Take some pear, girls," Magnolia offered.

Daisy's stomach growled. She didn't exactly feel good about eating the food her father stole, but she was hungry, as usual. Besides, she couldn't just turn down the offer.

"Alright," Daisy said, taking the slice of pear in her mother's hand. She glanced at Lily, who sighed, walked towards Magnolia, and accepted the slice of pear her mother offered her.

"Thanks for the food," Lily said, glancing at her father. "I appreciate it, but..." She took a bite out of the pear slice and swallowed. "Don't say I didn't warn you when you get into serious trouble."

Leif nodded. "Fair enough. Go and get ready, girls," he said, leaving the shack so that Lily and Daisy could change.

vVv

Daisy couldn't stop crying. She tried to put on a brave face for her sister, but the tears just kept pouring out. She sat on Lily's lap in the room in the District Justice Building designated for Goodbyes and held her tightly.

"Nobody will hurt you, Daisy," Lily said soothingly, stroking Daisy's back as the rest of the White family, Lily's older twin brothers included, huddled around the eldest daughter. Even though Lily was trying her best to comfort her sister, she was visibly shaking.

"Try your very best to come home, okay, sis?" Thyme said, giving his younger sister a rare kiss on the cheek.

"Just lay low and hide," Oregano, Thyme's identical twin, said. Daisy sniffed and wriggled away from Lily temporarily so that Oregano could give her a quick hug.

Magnolia, who was sitting on the left side of Lily and hugging her, released Lily to take off the woven bracelet she wore on her right wrist. She pressed it into Lily's hand and said, "Take this into the arena. Don't forget who you are and what you love."

"I won't, Mom," Lily said, sniffing as she slipped on the bracelet. "I love you, and I'll miss you so much, but keep everyone safe, okay? Daisy especially."

Leif, who was sitting on Lily's right side, shifted uncomfortably. "We need food," he said meekly, a tear running down his cheek.

Lily turned around slowly and gave her father a sad, reproachful look. "Dad, listen to me," she said, her voice more serious than Daisy had ever heard before. "You too, Mom."

"We're listening," Magnolia said, squeezing Lily's hand gently. Daisy sniffed and left Lily's lap so that her sister could better address her parents. Thyme and Oregano huddled towards Daisy, Thyme putting his hands on Daisy's shoulders and Oregano hugging his twin.

"If I come home, we'll never have to worry about staying safe or having enough food ever again," Lily said, her voice shaking. "And I promise to you that I'll try my very best to come home. But the reality is that I don't stand much of a chance-"

"Don't say that, Lily," Leif said.

"I'm just being realistic here," Lily said, her voice cracking. "If I die in the Games, you two are going to take care of Daisy, Mom and Dad. And she can't stand to lose another family member after I die."

 _I'll be strong, I swear,_ Daisy thought, but she held her tongue because she knew that this was the last chance for her parents to listen to what Lily had to say.

"So don't break the law or do anything stupid, got it?" Lily continued. "I know you two mean the best for us, but getting whipped isn't worth it, and neither is dying!" Her voice had risen to a shout. "You'll have one less mouth to feed once I'm gone. This is my dying wish, so you'd better honor it! Got it!?"

There was a silence in the room, broken only by Lily's sobs. Daisy broke free from Thyme's hold and hugged her sister tightly again. Leif and Magnolia wore pained expressions, as if considering their response.

 _How could they?_ Daisy thought angrily. _How could they not understand that safety is the most important thing in our situation?_

Daisy shot her parents a pleading look. _Please say yes,_ she thought as she heard the knock signaling that time was almost up. _Please promise to stay safe._

Finally, Leif spoke, his smile full of sadness and understanding.

"I promise I won't break the law ever again, Lily," he said, hugging his daughter tightly. "I will honor your wish."

-END-

* * *

Eulogy

Out of all my tributes, Lily was the closest to myself in terms of personality and Games strategy, so I was really gutted when her reception wasn't as warm as I hoped it would be. Granted, she was better received in her original story, _The Long Way Down_ by TheFisher, but that story went AWOL for months even after I PM'ed the author so I submitted Lily to another SYOT. LCS wrote Lily just the way I hoped, but I failed to realize that Lily was pretty similar to Rue. They even shared a District. I was really sad when Lily died, frozen to death by an unforgiving arena. Unfortunately for Lily, being mediocre, forgettable, and invisible wasn't a good strategy for the freezing mountaintop arena of the 42nd Games.

Rest in peace, Lily White. You hoped to stay alive by being forgotten by anyone who would target you, and even though you didn't make it out alive you did kind of disappear like you intended to. At least your family will honor your last request and stay safe. I'm sorry that you got a raw deal, but the elements of nature do not discriminate between personalities as they kill. Lily, I could relate to the way you valued safety above everything else, and I wish I could tell you that you don't have to fade away to stay safe. I will never forget you, even if everyone else does.


	2. Steve Gilbert Kraft

**A/N: I edited Lily's chapter to include more statistics (specifically, Age and Time of death). Those two statistics will be in every one-shot from now on.**

 **In LadyCordeliaStuart's** ** _Child's Play_** **, I lost my two tributes, a sibling pair, in quick succession. Despite these two tributes being siblings, each one will have their own one-shot. Without further ado, I present to you, my homage to my second fallen tribute, Steve Gilbert Kraft of District 4.**

* * *

Tribute Statistics

 **Name:** Steve Gilbert Kraft **  
District:** 4 **  
Gender Reaped as:** Male **  
Age:** 16 **  
First completed story submitted to:** _Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games_ by LadyCordeliaStuart **  
Training Score:** 10 **  
Kills:** 1 (Alex Kraft of District 4) **  
Cause of death:** Neck slashed by Blake Armani of District 1's claws **  
Time of death:** Bloodbath **  
Placement:** 24th

* * *

Netta O'Finn surveyed the present members of her gang. There was Moana Blume, the only other female, who was twenty years old and therefore the eldest member of Team Skull. Netta liked her, but not enough to give up her position as Boss. Isaac Whaley and Marlin Smith were tagging the brick wall in front of them, and Cerulean Hayes was kicking a pebble around. Every gang member was present in their usual hangout place, the stinking alley behind the fish market.

Well, almost everyone was present. There was still Steve Gilbert Kraft, the newest and youngest member of Team Skull. Netta wasn't sure what to make of the fourteen-year-old. She welcomed him into the gang, of course. Anyone who was bored and itching to make mischief was welcome in Team Skull. Steve always had the most ingenious plans, but many of his fantasies were… disturbing, to say the least.

Netta shuddered as she remembered the way Steve's eyes shone as he talked about using a knife to murder his mother Oshanna in her sleep. He had been disappointed when Netta had firmly told him that murder was a crime punishable by death in Four. _Disappointed_. And then he had suggested that Team Skull "at least" torture Oshanna by kidnapping her and dunking her head in a bucket full of rotten fish while holding her down and giving her a beating. Netta had told Steve that she would think about it, even though she knew she would never do such a thing without provocation. Steve had sneered at her and walked away, calling her a "pussy bitch". Netta was still made about that, even though she admired the kid's audacity.

"Steve ain't comin'," Moana declared, standing up from her seat on a rotting crate. "Let's just go."

"Yeah," Cerulean said, kicking the pebble to the side. "Let's mess around with Crabby Patty's dog. That old coot deserves it."

"Good idea," Netta said, a devious smile creeping onto her suntanned face. "Cerulean, bring that rock with you. Let's stop by the beach and pick up a stick or something." She stood up straight. "Oh, someone's coming."

At the sound of Netta's voice, Steve Kraft entered the alleyway, a bored expression on his face. His hands were behind his back, and he was walking as if he was carrying something heavy.

"Yo, Steve," Isaac greeted, but the young boy paid the older gang member no attention. Instead, Steve sidled straight up to Netta.

"Look what I got," he said proudly as he brought out the object he was holding behind his back.

Netta yelped when she realized that it was a kitten. Steve was holding the poor orange creature by its tail. Where its paws were supposed to be, there were instead bloody, bony stumps. Netta's eyes scanned Steve in horror and realized that the boy was splattered with blood.

"What?" Steve growled at the sound of Netta's shriek. He threw the kitten's limp body down on the ground. "I was just hanging around in my backyard, cutting off its paws and listening to its pathetic screams, but the thing's probably too busted to make any noise right now." He kicked the animal upwards and caught it by its tail again. "Too bad, I was just getting started with it."

"D-does the kitten belong to anyone?" Netta stuttered, her eyes darting warily around. The last thing she wanted to happen was for Steve to lure someone to Team Skull's hiding place. "Where did you find it?"

Steve just shrugged. "Who cares?" he spat. "I found a source of fun and had my fun. I'm not done yet, though." He scanned the gangsters in the alleyway, many of whom were regarding Steve with fear and disgust. "I heard you guys were talking about torturing Crabby Patty's mangy mutt. We can bring this thing along with us and feed it to the dog, right before we pound its stomach. Then we alert Crabby Patty, and cut up her precious pet right in front of her very eyes. That will be _fun_."

A shocked silence ensued. Netta couldn't believe what she was hearing. Crabby Patty was annoying and grumpy, and her big dog was loud and dumb, but neither of them deserved _this_. Steve's plans were getting worse and worse, but what was Netta going to do? She couldn't just turn him in to the Peacekeepers, because that would mean turning in Team Skull as well. She knew what she _wouldn't_ do, however.

"We're not going to do that," Netta said firmly. For a second she feared that she was seeming far too wimpy for a gang leader, and was relieved when the rest of her gang nodded their heads. "We're going to poke Crabby Patty's dog and get him riled up, but that's all. Nothing big enough for the old coot to call the Peacekeepers on us."

"So what if the Peacekeepers get to us?" Steve asked, shrugging. "If that happens we just avoid the punishment and make a game out of it. That'll be fun too."

"Unfortunately, evading punishment will only land you in a bigger punishment when you get caught," Netta explained. "I learned that the hard way. Too much punishment evasion leads to death. I think. I've never seen that happen before, but I'd rather take the punishment and stay alive."

"This District is no fun," Steve said, growling.

"I know. That's why Team Skull exists," Netta said, smirking. "We evade the rules as much as possible, all in the name of having fun. If we get caught, we serve our punishment, and then keep evading the rules." She marched out of the alleyway, beckoning for her gang members to follow her. "Come on, everyone. We'll mess around with Crabby Patty's old mutt a little. Don't worry, we won't cut him up."

"Party pooper," Steve spat at Netta. He marched in the opposite direction from her, swinging the corpse of the kitten over his shoulder. "I quit. If you guys are too wimpy for torture and murder, I'm going to do that on my _own_."

"We won't miss you," Cerulean piped up.

"Yeah, leave us alone, you creep!" Marlin exclaimed.

"Come on everyone, let's leave him," Netta said, ignoring the fact that Steve was flipping the bird at the rest of Team Skull. She was starting her march towards Crabby Patty's house when she realized something.

 _Steve is going to continue terrorizing the District even now that he isn't with us anymore._

"Wait here, gang," Netta commanded, turning and starting towards the direction Steve had gone. "I've got some business to take care of."

Netta broke into a jog and soon caught up with Steve, who was now swinging the bloody corpse of the kitten around.

"What do _you_ want, bitch?" Steve snarled.

"You should volunteer for the Hunger Games," Netta blurted out.

Steve raised his eyebrows. "I will," he said nonchalantly. "I've already been training. In the Hunger Games you can get away with _anything_. It's the funnest game in the world." He wrinkled his nose. "Why do _you_ care whether or not I volunteer?"

"I hope you enter the Games," Netta said bluntly, smiling gleefully. _And die_ , she thought privately to herself, though she had enough sense to not say that out loud. "The District will _not_ miss you when you're gone."

Steve nodded. "I can't wait to murder actual people," he said, his eyes shining.

Netta blinked. She was already on the fence about Steve's membership in Team Skull, but what he just said made it clear to her that Steve Gilbert Kraft had no place in her life. She knew that there was no way she would let Steve back into Team Skull, even if he begged.

"Good luck," she said curtly. With that, she turned away and stalked back towards her gang, and parted ways with the psychopath.

Netta didn't tell him that psychos like him never won the Games. It didn't matter. Steve Gilbert Kraft was out of Team Skull's hair, and once he was killed in the Hunger Games, he would be out of everybody's hair forever.

xXx

When Steve volunteered for the 43rd Annual Hunger Games years later, Netta didn't miss him. In fact, she was glad that he had kept his word and really volunteered for the Games. Team Skull was still around, and was much happier and rowdier now that Steve was gone.

Steve was the first to die. Netta breathed a sigh of relief.

The monster was dead.

-END-

* * *

Eulogy

Steve was a complete monster. I knew before I created him that I wanted to create at least one utterly despicable and completely evil tribute, and out popped Steve, a nasty sociopath who had zero redeeming qualities. I originally submitted him as a standalone tribute to _Action Replay_ by Denying Reality, but after that story went AWOL I decided to resubmit him along with an equally evil (but in a different way) sister character, Alex (more on her in her eulogy). They both were submitted to a deleted SYOT. I ended up submitting Steve and Alex to _Child's Play_ , hoping that they could be written to the end. I briefly considered withdrawing their forms when I discovered that _Child's Play_ was a Voting Games, because I knew that everyone would vote against them since they were villains. I decided to keep them in the story, though, because I knew that LCS would find a way to make their deaths fitting even if they died early. LCS didn't disappoint. Steve and Alex had plenty of time to fuck shit up as villains in the pre-Games before getting offed in the Bloodbath.

Burn in hell, Steve Gilbert Kraft. I'm glad that the world is cleansed of your evil soul. I always intended for you to be a villain, and I didn't care how long you lasted - the important thing was that you died a fitting death, which you did. Now I'm glad that you're dead and will be dead forever.


	3. Alex Laguna Kraft

**A/N: Warning: This one-shot includes plenty of swearing and violence. The misogynistic and misandrist opinions of the characters in this one-shot belong to the characters and the characters alone. I as a person do not condone such horribly offensive ways of thinking.**

* * *

Tribute Statistics

 **Name:** Alex Laguna Kraft  
 **District:** 4  
 **Gender Reaped as:** Female  
 **Age:** 18  
 **First completed story submitted to:** _Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games_ by LadyCordeliaStuart  
 **Training Score:** 9  
 **Kills:** 0  
 **Cause of death:** Head smashed against metal plate by Steve Kraft of District 4  
 **Time of death:** Bloodbath  
 **Placement:** 23rd

* * *

 _Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!_

Alex gently released the bench press and sat up, breathing heavily. Her bruise from last night still ached, but she wasn't going to let something as stupid as that stop her. She glanced behind her at the weight training machine and frowned. She was getting stronger, but still not good enough.

Alex knew that she was strong for a twelve-year-old. Physically, at least. She wasn't sure if she was mentally ready to go into the Hunger Games. She knew she didn't have much time to prepare. Her monster of a younger brother could conceivably volunteer for the Hunger Games in two years' time. He had made it no secret that he wanted more than anything to hurt, maim, and kill others - especially girls who did not deserve in any way to be tormented by Steve Gilbert Kraft. No, she could not let that happen. She was going to personally stop her brother, whatever it took.

A group of Academy trainees passed by the weight training room. Alex recognized some of them and tried not to pay any attention to them. Fourteen-year-old Nile Brooks was a bully. He, like everyone of his gender, was an idiot as far as Alex was concerned. Nile, like Alex's father Gil and brother Steve, was living proof that the male gender was nothing but a bunch of scumbags. Nile was surrounded by a few of his cronies, all big, bumbling boys who loved more than anything to brag about their nonexistent skills and tear down the less prominent trainees - mostly females - in District 4's Career Academy.

"Hey everyone, look, it's that psycho Kraft girl," one of the boys snickered, pointing at Alex, who had turned her back towards the bullies and was kicking a sandbag, releasing all of her pent-up rage towards the male gender and many other things.

"Where's your crazy family at, Kraft?" another boy taunted. "Oh, I know, they're too busy kissing their cousins."

Rage seared through Alex, and she wheeled around, putting her face close to the bully, who towered over her. She didn't care about the height difference as she screamed into his face.

"What my family does is none of your business!" she yelled angrily. She kicked him swiftly with all her might in the groin. The boy doubled over in pain, and his friends hurried to help him up.

"Dude, what's your problem?!" Nile exclaimed, his eyes shooting daggers at Alex.

"My _problem_ is all of you stupid boys who have nothing better to do than to go around beating us girls down," Alex growled, raising her fist and getting ready to punch Nile in the nose. She hesitated as her eyes rested onto Atlantica West, a thirteen-year-old girl whom Alex recognized as a casual Academy trainee. "Atlantica, what are you doing hanging out with these horrible… males?" She spit out the word. "You can do so much better than this!"

"I- I-" Atlantica began, fumbling for an explanation before Nile waved her off.

"She's my girlfriend," Nile said dismissively.

"Am not," Atlantica mumbled.

Nile turned and faced the girl threateningly. "Be quiet," he growled. "I'm trying to deal with this psycho Kraft here."

"That's it!" Alex roared, clobbering Nile in the face and smirking with satisfaction as she felt a crunch beneath her fist. That horrible boy deserved it after all the horrible things he had done to girls. She wound back and punched Nile again, ignoring the horrified stares of everyone else in the room, and was about to kick him in the groin when she felt firm hands on her shoulders.

"Alex, that's enough!"

Alex whirled around, rage building inside her as she identified her restrainer as Galleon White, a male trainer in the Career Academy. His mouth was a narrow line, and his blue-green eyes were harsh.

"What are you talking about?" Alex practically screamed. "Nile and his _boys_ were beating me and Atlantica down. They called me and my family psycho, and then Nile told Atlantica to _be quiet_. He has _no right_ to do that! I'm just serving justice here."

"We do not hurt other trainees," Galleon said curtly. "Even when sparring and practicing, we do _not_ ever physically wound each other. Got it?"

"But these idiots deserved it," Alex muttered, glaring at Galleon.

"Take it out on them in a sanctioned fight," Galleon said simply. He was never one to say more than what was necessary. He released Alex and helped Nile up. "Nile, I'll take you to the medical center. Alex, you're dismissed. This has happened before so you are banned from entering the Academy for the week."

A cold dread enveloped Alex, all her anger gone. She couldn't go home, not now! "No, please, don't kick me out of the Academy," she said quickly. "I'm sorry!"

"You know the procedures, Alex," Galleon said. "Now leave before I personally escort you to the door."

"ARGH!" Alex screamed as she stomped towards the exit of the weight training room. Right before she exited, she whipped around and glared at Galleon again. "Of course you're taking Nile's side! You males are always putting us females down! I swear, if I could have things my way, you horrible men would be-"

"Alex," Galleon said sternly. "Go. One more peep out of you and you're banned for two weeks."

 _That's so unfair!_ Alex thought. She opened her mouth to scream in frustration, but turned around and continued stomping out of the Academy.

She would do anything to avoid her father and brother.

XxX

Alex approached the door to her family's one-story house, which was relatively small by District standards. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come. She wished she could just dart to her room, but the only way to her room - which didn't have a door in its doorway because her father thought that she could be better "monitored" that way - was through the kitchen, where her father usually sat in the evenings. She wished she could just hole up in her room and pass the week quietly, then dart right back to training.

 _Who am I kidding? I can't stop Dad and Steve._

Alex opened the front door tentatively and walked in as quietly as possible. The moment the door creaked open, she could hear her mother preparing dinner in the kitchen and her father screaming at her mother to hurry up because _I'm a busy man and what kind of a woman are you for not having dinner ready by the time her husband comes home and do you want me to slap you in the face because you're such a pathetic excuse for a wife._

Alex swallowed, trying to ignore the rage and terror that were building inside her. She opened the door wider for herself to fit through, only to spot her father drinking coffee at the kitchen table and her mother cutting vegetables in the kitchen. She tiptoed into the house and tried to shut the door gently when a gust of wind slammed the front door shut. From the kitchen, her father whipped his head towards her direction, his pitch-black eyes full of hate.

"Where the hell have you been, girl?" Gil yelled, placing the coffee mug down with such force that some of the hot liquid splashed onto his hand. "Ow, fuck!"

"I was out," Alex said. It wasn't a lie.

"Don't lie to me, Alex," Gil snarled. With a few strides he walked over to Alex. Alex knew what was coming. Towering over Alex, Gil lifted a strong, muscular arm and brought it down hard onto her face. Alex cried out in pain, tears forming in her eyes.

"Please don't, Dad," Alex sobbed. Inside she was boiling with rage, but she knew that being angry on the outside would only cause Gil to hurt her further. "It hurts."

"Good," Gil barked, and slapped her on the same cheek two more times. Alex yelped, her cheek red and stinging.

"You're a woman, Alex!" Gil screamed, gripping the front of Alex's shirt and holding his menacing, bearded face close to hers. "Your place is in the house, where you take care of the men in your life. You will never amount to anything else. Got it?"

 _No_ , Alex thought. She was in too much pain to say anything, anyways. At Alex's split-second hesitation Gil threw her down onto the hardwood floor and kicked her right in the chest.

"Ow!" Alex yelled in pain. As a girl going through puberty, her breast area was very sensitive, and she gripped it, rolling around as agony shot through her chest. Her father kicked her again in the stomach, and Alex continued crying loudly. It hurt too much.

"Say yes or I'll keep kicking you," Alex's father commanded. " _Now_."

"Y-y-y-"

Another kick pummeled Alex's stomach, and she shut her eyes, in too much pain to do anything but cry.

"Gil!" a voice called suddenly. Alex recognized the voice of her mother Oshanna, who spent most of her time living in fear of the husband she never wanted. Despite all the pain Alex was in, she was surprised. Her mother, like her, was always too terrified of Gil to speak out.

Gil kicked Alex one last time and began marching menacingly towards Oshanna. "Did I say you could speak, woman?" he asked dangerously.

"No," Oshanna said. Alex watched in amazement as her mother, her meek, submissive mother, turned to face her abuser with a knife in hand. "But that doesn't matter. This is it."

With that, Oshanna raised her arm in a swift motion. Alex watched in amazement as her horrible father's eyes widened, but only for a split second. The next moment, her mother plunged the large kitchen knife into Gil's throat. The knife sliced through his throat cleanly, and scarlet red blood gushed profusely out of the gaping wound in Gil's neck.

"Wha-" Gil gasped, his eyes still wide with shock.

"Your reign of terror ends now," Oshanna said, withdrawing the knife and bringing it down forcefully with both hands into Gil's face. Alex watched, transfixed, her pain temporarily gone as her mother, her wonderful, courageous mother, stabbed her horrible father again and again. The blood gushed freely out of Gil's fresh corpse, and Alex stared, her jaw agape. This was art. This was beauty. This was justice served.

Alex didn't know how long she waited with bated breath as her mother stopped stabbing the dead body and let it fall to the ground. Oshanna placed the bloody knife gently down into the kitchen sink and gazed at the corpse of her abusive husband, smiling. There was nothing ecstatic or creepy about this smile, this smile of someone who had been freed.

"Mom?"

Oshanna turned to Alex at this and walked gently towards her daughter, pulling her into an embrace. Alex felt surprised at the emotion that seemed to radiate from her mother's arms.

"Alex…" Oshanna murmured. "The monster is dead."

"I know. Thanks," Alex said, smiling.

"Alex, listen to me."

"Huh?" Alex said, surprised at the urgency in her mother's voice.

"I don't have much time," Oshanna said quickly. "The Peacekeepers will find me and execute me. There's nothing I can do."

Alex felt a rush of panic. "Mom, no! They can't kill you! You just did what was right! You had the right to kill Dad, he was so bad to you!"

Oshanna sighed. "I know," she said, "and I don't regret what I did. But I will be gone soon." Her words quickened. "Just promise me that whatever happens, you never lose sight of what you believe in."

"Yes," Alex said. There was no doubt in her voice. "Men are the root of all the world's problems, and we'd all be better off if they were all dead."

"Good," Oshanna said, smiling. "That's my girl."

Alex had never felt more proud in her life.

-END-

* * *

Eulogy

Alex, like her brother Steve, was a monster, albeit a more complex one. She was still a bitter, odious, and nasty person, but unlike Steve had a reason to be that way. I originally created Alex as a contrast to Steve, but a simple good vs. evil contrast seemed too simple. So I made the Krafts an evil vs. evil contrast, with both Alex and Steve being evil but in different ways. Steve had no reason to be a sociopath, while Alex's abused and loveless background helped shape her into a horrible person. Steve knew that he was evil and reveled in it, while Alex thought she was doing the world a moral favor by being outright terrible to men. Steve was a misogynist, while Alex was a misandrist. Overall they were both clearly villainous, and LCS wrote them both brilliantly, making it clear that they were villains to be rooted against. Although I hoped that Alex would go through a character arc of learning to not be a dick, she was voted against a lot and LCS had to kill her. Her death ended up being really fitting - she got to see Steve, the monster she wanted to eliminate, bleed to death before dying herself. I honestly think that's a really fitting end for her.

Alex Laguna Kraft, I'm not sure whether to tell you to rest in peace or to burn in hell, so I'll just say this: you never had to be bitter or nasty just because the male influences in your life were bitter and nasty towards you. You were a terrible person, but I'm glad that you were at peace during your death. Steve, the monster you hated and feared, is dead. He won't be hurting you or anyone anymore, and that was what you wanted more than anything else.


	4. Ambrose Granada

Tribute Statistics

 **Name:** Ambrose Granada **  
District:** 9 **  
Gender Reaped as:** Male **  
Age:** 16 **  
First completed story submitted to:** _Self Portrait_ by betttyy (summarized) **  
Training Score:** Unknown **  
Kills:** 1 (Laelia Omri of District 9) **  
Cause of death:** Chest stabbed by Felicity Blue of District 4 **  
Time of death:** Day 4 **  
Placement:** 2nd

* * *

I'm shaking.

I've never been afraid of death, but now? I could be dead in less than an hour. I've never thought much about dying before, but now that I'm about to go into the Hunger Games I'm realizing how terrifying it is. It's even more terrifying than talking to people, and that's saying something.

The Launch Room is dim, with sparse furnishings. I'm sitting on the couch, trying to eat as much as I can before the Arena, but my teeth are chattering so much that it's hard to stuff the bread into my mouth. The fact that I'm full isn't helping, and maybe I shouldn't stuff myself so much that it'll be hard to run. But doing nothing is unbearable.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I chew on the bread. My stylist, Quantavia, stands off to the side of the room. I think she's still wishing that she was assigned to a better District where the tributes give decent Interviews rather than spending their entire Interview giving a lecture on the history of Panem. At the very least, Laelia, Felicity, and Roman got the crowds to cheer for them. I still can't believe Laelia actually made an offer to ally with me of all people. Without her, I wouldn't have ended up in an alliance with the talkative, socially adept tributes of District 4. I think I would've ended up all alone, and even though my current chances are slim at least they're better than the chances I would've had if I didn't have any allies.

I don't trust them, of course. I tend to not rely on anyone but myself, and maybe my parents and Mayzie. Thinking about home threatens to bring tears to my eyes, so I open my eyes, set down the piece of bread, and take a drink of water. Who knows how much water will be in the Arena.

"It's time to prepare for Launch," a pleasant female voice says.

My terror returns to me, and all the nervousness that I've managed to suppress comes back with a vengeance. I shake as I stand up and allow Quantavia to guide me to the circular metal plate.

"Don't shake so much that you fall off the plate before the timer even reaches zero," Quantavia says. "Get your mind doing something else besides being nervous."

I nod. What can I do, though? My mind is so used to reading that it's impossible for me to focus on anything besides remembering history facts.

Remembering history facts, that's it! I take a deep breath as the glass slides between my plate and the Launch Room. _The Apocalypse began 202 B.G., B.G. meaning Before Games, when a series of Category 5 hurricanes ravaged the East Coast._ My mind is racing as it remembers everything it has taken in over the years, but I'm shaking less now that I'm thinking about history as opposed to the present. _Panem and its thirteen Districts took over the remains of North America 179 B.G._ My plate begins to rise, and I continue mentally reciting the history of Panem as the metal plate sends me into the Arena. _The Dark Days began 100 B.G., when a coalition led by District 13 instigated an attack on the Capitol._ I'm in complete darkness. Easy now, it's just like closing my eyes when I get overstimulated. _The rebels finally fell in October of the year 5 B.G., marking the end of a war that nearly lasted for a hundred years._

The plate continues to rise, and I catch my first glimpse of the Arena. It doesn't take too long for my eyes to adjust to the relatively dim light, which means that either we're indoors or we've been launched at twilight. As the plate slides into place with a click, I realize that we're in a vast, well-lit, indoor space with marble tiles on the floor, desks and doors lining the sides of the room, and a Cornucopia in the center.

 _A hotel_. I read about those back in District 9, in some of the books I've managed to procure, but I've never actually been in one. Thank goodness it's relatively dim here. Bright lights make me nervous.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the fifty-fourth annual Hunger Games begin!"

 _Sixty_

 _Fifty-nine_

 _Fifty-eight_

I am facing the rear of the Cornucopia, which means that all the best supplies are at the other side of the horn. That's okay though, because I didn't plan on grabbing weapons anyways. There are plenty of smaller packages on this side. I look to my right, and I nearly fall off the pedestal.

The Career boy from District Two is right next to me.

 _Fifty_

 _Forty-nine_

 _Forty-eight_

 _What do I do?_ Laelia told me to just run wherever she runs, because she knows that it's impossible for me to figure out what to do just from looking at non-verbal cues. But she doesn't know that I ended up right next to a Career and need to get away from him as quickly as I can. I crane my neck to look for her, but I can't see my District Partner. She must be on the other side of the Cornucopia.

 _Well, that messes up our plan considerably._

 _Forty_

 _Thirty-nine_

 _Thirty-eight_

 _Thirty-seven_

I'm about to start panicking again when an explosion rings through the air. The tributes all murmur, reacting with shock, but I can't see a thing.

 _What just happened?_ I start to shake all over again. _It obviously happened on the other side of the Cornucopia, but what was that?_ My breathing quickens, not helped by the unfortunate fact that I can't see Laelia and the other unfortunate fact that something bad happened on the other side of the Cornucopia and the other unfortunate fact that I'm stationed right next to a Career.

 _Breathe, breathe,_ I think to myself as the timer reaches thirty. _The Apocalypse began 202 B.G., B.G. meaning Before Games, when a series of Category 5 hurricanes ravaged the East Coast._ I repeat my comforting history to myself as I look around for the rest of my alliance. I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Felicity several podiums to my left, staring intently at the large blue backpack leaning against one of the back walls of the Cornucopia. Well, hopefully she'll grab it and get some good stuff for our alliance, because there is no way that I'm running in for supplies now that I know a trained Career is next to me.

I position my feet to run away from the Cornucopia and towards a door that will lead me out of this room. I don't care where it leads; I just know that I need to get out of here. As I turn away from the Cornucopia, I spot Roman, the final member of my alliance, three podiums to my right. He meets my eyes as I get into position, and I see him nod just as I duck away from his gaze. I hope that means he knows where I am, and that he understands why I have to get out of here.

I don't see the clock now, but I can still hear it.

 _Twenty_

 _Nineteen_

 _Eighteen_

I get ready to run towards the exit. I'm still shaking, but the history I've memorized so well is still racing through my mind and preventing me from falling off the pedestal.

 _Ten_

 _Nine_

 _Eight_

 _Seven_

 _Six_

 _Five_

 _Four_

I hope the District 2 boy doesn't come straight for me.

 _Three_

 _Two_

 _One_

The gong rings, and as soon as it does, I take a flying leap off the pedestal and book it to the exit door. It seems so far away as I stretch out my legs, running as fast as I can. I can hear the horrible sounds of the Bloodbath behind me, and the first scream - a male - pierces the air. Hopefully that wasn't Roman.

I wheeze as I reach the door and fling it open. I end up in a hallway. I'm about to dash down the hallway when I remember my allies. I don't want to just abandon them; I have nothing at all and I need their supplies. So I open the door a crack and stick my head through it, observing the Bloodbath from my safe spot behind the door.

I see Felicity at the edge of the ring of pedestals. She's carrying a backpack and looking around with a panicked look on her face.

"Lissy!" I scream at the top of my lungs. She looks around a bit more, confused, before spotting me and dashing towards my hallway. I wince as I spot Roman strangling a tribute in the center of the lobby. Felicity reaches me and flings open the door, panting.

"Ambrose, did you get anything?" she gasps, wriggling so that she can look out towards the Bloodbath as well.

"The boy from Two was right next to me," I squeak. "Did you know that the rebels finally fell in October of the year 5 B.G.?"

"Now's not the time for that, Ambrose," Felicity says as she calls out to Laelia. My District Partner spots us, relief flooding into her eyes, before running towards our hallway. The tribute Roman was killing collapses to the floor, and Roman grabs the tribute's backpack. I look away. My ally, the boy from District 4 who chose to join me as opposed to the Careers from One and Two, just killed someone with his bare hands. I just hope I won't suffer the same fate.

"Roman! Over here!" Laelia calls once she's safely in the hallway. She has a backpack with her, which I'm glad about. Roman books it towards us, and as soon as he's with us, we slam the door shut behind us.

"We need to move," Roman pants. "They might come in here."

"Agreed," Laelia says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and walking briskly towards the end of the hallway. Roman follows her, and Lissy and I bring up the rear.

"It was smart of you to get away from Nolan," Felicity says, walking next to me. "I'm not even mad that you didn't get anything."

"I recite history when I'm nervous," I say, still terrified.

"Keep doing that, Ambrose," Laelia says, looking over her shoulder. "It's a nice distraction."

"Let's set up camp somewhere nice," Lissy says to everyone, "and make a plan."

I nod. "I'll help in any way I can," I say. I didn't grab anything in the Bloodbath, so I'd better make myself useful to my alliance. "Do we know who died?"

"We'll find out tonight," Roman says gravely.

We walk in silence as cannons start sounding. In total, six cannons fire. Six lives lost.

Lives that wouldn't be lost if I were President.

I push the thought out of my head. If I even want a chance at becoming President of Panem, I'll have to make it out of here alive, and I know that I have to be willing to do whatever it takes.

My allies have been nothing but kind to me, especially Laelia. I hope I won't have to kill them when the time comes.

-END-

* * *

Eulogy

My bro Ambrose was a cool tribute. His introduction was spot-on and portrayed his Asperger's Syndrome excellently. He was one of my earliest tributes, but I still think he was one of my best. I love bookworm tributes, and Ambrose was a cool one who loved history, geography, and politics. He was the son of a mayor and just wanted to make a positive change in Panem, but he didn't realize how hard it would be for one person to make a lasting impact on Panem. He was devastated when he was Reaped, but he did his best in his Games. He made it all the way to second place, which was an amazing feat, but unfortunately his story was summarized so I never got to see him live up to his full potential.

Rest in peace, Ambrose Granada. I'm proud of you for what you achieved in your Games. Being in the Games was hard for you because it has always been difficult for you to read social cues and not be overwhelmed by things. But you made up for your weaknesses with your fiery determination and your passion for change. You had good allies, and they carried you to the finale, where you came so close but was overpowered. I'm still proud of you for placing so high, and your family and friends will miss you dearly.


	5. Arabia Hakim

Tribute Statistics

 **Name:** Arabia Hakim  
 **District:** 4  
 **Gender Reaped as:** Female  
 **Age:** 16  
 **First completed story submitted to:** _Free Falling: The 31st Hunger Games_ by IVolunteerAsAuthor  
 **Training Score:** 10  
 **Kills:** 1 (Oliver St. James of District 1)  
 **Cause of death:** Stomach speared by Ember Poxal of District 12  
 **Time of death:** Day 4  
 **Placement:** 5th

* * *

My eyes scanned the fancy decorations in the Goodbye Room in District 4's Justice Building, and my hands rubbed against the velvet of the couch I sat on. The excitement of volunteering was starting to wear off, and now I felt nervous as I thought about what was coming in the days ahead.

I still couldn't believe that I was picked to volunteer. The fact that they picked me, the sixteen-year-old, over a seventeen-year-old and two eighteen-year-olds was amazing. Guess Ms. Barstool wasn't kidding when she said she wanted a girl tribute who was a fighter rather than a flirt. I couldn't help smiling to myself. Now was my chance. Now that I was in the Games, I was going to do everything in my power to show the world that a girl like me could do great things even though she was different.

The door opened, and I pursed my lips as my eyes fell upon my first visitor. I'd always hated Coraline Fisher. Sure, she was a good training partner, but only because she represented everything I hated about District 4. With her vapid beauty and the way she took forever to understand the most basic concepts, Coraline was everything I aspired not to be. Every day, I trained to be better than her, to prove that my cleverness was better than her flirtatiousness. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why she'd want to see me off.

 _Oh right. I was picked over her, and this was her last chance._

"Let's not sugarcoat things, Cora," I said calmly, looking into her classically District 4-like green eyes. "We won't be seeing each other after this. I only put up with you because you always pushed me to train harder."

"Arabie, sweetie, how could you say that?" Coraline asked, feigning surprise. "We're _besties!_ "

"If we're really best friends, you would genuinely support me going into the Games," I said bluntly, "not call me by a nickname that you know I hate."

"But I do support you going into the Games!" Cora exclaimed. "I mean, I totally wanted to be the chosen volunteer, and I totally _deserved_ it because I'm older and better than you, but I still _toootally_ support you!"

"I know you don't," I muttered.

"Congrats, _Arabie_ , really," Coraline said with a voice that still dripped with envy, giving me a smile that would have fooled me if I hadn't known Cora for years. "You're going to do great in the Games. Break a leg, literally."

"I don't have time for this," I said, not flinching. "I was chosen to volunteer for these Games, and I'm not going to waste this opportunity. I finally have a chance to prove that I'm just as good as people with fair skin and light eyes who use their looks to win."

"If that's the case, go knock them dead, honey, before you die yourself," Cora said, still keeping up her fake smile. I had no idea why she was even bothering with keeping up the facade. I was always a straightforward person, and I always wondered why people like Cora put on airs.

"Cora," I sighed. "Leave."

Cora looked genuinely hurt, and I almost felt bad for her until I remembered everything she had done to make me hate her in the past.

"Alright, I'll send you something _nice_ ," she said, giving me one last fake smile before disappearing behind the door.

I sighed, leaned back against the couch, and rubbed my eyes. At least _she_ was out of my hair for good.

I stared at the door, wondering who was going to visit me next. I hoped it was my family, who would tell me how proud they were of me for going into the Games. But when the door opened again, I was greeted by another girl from the Academy, Anemone Ross. I smiled slightly. Anemone was a pretty, light-skinned girl like the rest of them, but at least she treated me with respect.

"Hey Arabia," she said, actually closing the door behind her, unlike Coraline, who left the door open while visiting me.

"Hi Nee," I greeted her, smiling. "I'm so glad to see you. Cora was just here, and she was so fake it hurt."

Nee frowned. "Hey, Cora's just trying to be nice," she said, sitting down onto the couch across from me.

I laughed. "I don't think so," I said truthfully. "She's nothing more than another one of those people who are unnecessarily nasty to me because I'm different."

"I don't think Coraline visited you just to be spiteful," Anemone said pointedly. "But anyways. In the Games, it's a good idea to assume the worst when it comes to people's intentions." She laughed. "So you're good there."

"Why would Cora not be spiteful towards me?" I asked, frowning. "Everyone in this District is so _extra_." I shrugged. "Not you, Nee. And my family would never be extra either."

Nee sighed. "I dunno, Arabia, maybe you shouldn't look down on everyone like that," she said. "Sure, you're different, but that doesn't mean you should assume that everyone hates you."

"But it's true," I said, annoyed. "Have you seen the way people at the Academy talk about me? They're saying nasty things about me because of the color of my skin. I know it."

"Yeah, but not even saying hello to Delta when he greets you?" Anemone said, raising her eyebrows. "That's cold, Arabia."

This caught me by surprise. "I…" I fumbled. "Well… Delta's really annoying."

"Just because someone annoys you, or you don't agree with someone, doesn't mean you should treat them badly," Anemone chided. "I'm not saying that you mean to be mean to people, but maybe you can consider keeping your distaste of others to yourself." She stood up, heading to the door. "Look, Arabia. I know that you aren't like most Careers, and you want to prove yourself. I'm just saying that, in the Games, outwardly hating everyone probably won't get you the Victory."

"Hmm," I said, crossing my arms. "You're probably right, Nee, but I need to think about it for a bit. You don't just go from being distant from everyone to being the nicest person around."

"I'm not asking you to be _nice_ ," Nee said. "I'm just asking you to not be mean, which is a really extra thing to do." She smiled. "And I know how you hate extraness."

I couldn't help but smile as well. "You got me there," I said, chuckling. "Alright. I won't outwardly express how much I'll probably hate the District 1 tributes. It's all strategic, after all."

"Exactly," Anemone said, giving me a thumbs-up. "I'm sure you can do it, Arabia."

I nodded just as the Peacekeeper opened the door and announced that we had five minutes left.

"I'll be out soon," Anemone said to the Peacekeeper. She turned back to me and sighed. "Be careful out there, okay? I want you to be the next Victor of District 4, and win in your own unique way."

"I will, I promise," I said, giving Nee a thumbs-up.

Anemone and I were silent for a while before she did something that caught me by surprise. She leaned down and gave me a hug.

"Good luck," she said softly as she broke the hug and stood up. "Sorry. I hug people a lot."

"No problem," I said genuinely. "Thanks for believing in me."

"You can do this," Anemone said, giving me one last smile and a final thumbs-up before opening the door and stepping out the room. I smiled back at her and gave her a thumbs-up as well as the door closed behind the girl who was probably my friend all this time.

I barely had any time to relax when the door opened and my family walked in. I smiled broadly as Mom, Dad, Ninevah, and Raqqa walked in, but my face fell when I noticed that my parents were wearing worried expressions.

"I didn't think they'd pick you to volunteer, Arabia," my mother muttered, sitting down across from me. My father sat next to him, his face unreadable, and Raqqa and Ninevah gave me big hugs from the side.

"But they did, didn't they?" Ninevah asked excitedly, the ten-year-old bouncing up and down on her seat as I smiled at her. "That's so exciting! You're going into the Hunger Games, Arabia!"

"Yeah, and I'm going to prove to everyone what people like us are capable of, Ninevah," I said proudly, giving my youngest sister a hug. "I'm going to win using my brain, not my looks."

"And if you don't, I will," Raqqa said. "Arabia, I promise that I'm going to prove myself to all of Panem and win the Hunger Games if you can't." The thirteen-year-old laughed. "But that won't be necessary, because I know you're going to be District 4's next Victor."

I opened my mouth to say something cheerful, but shut it quickly when I noticed tears in my father's eyes.

My heart sank to my stomach. I couldn't believe that I had made my dad cry. What kind of a daughter was I?

"Yeah, about that," I said slowly, my voice hardening. I stared intently into Raqqa's eyes, and my sister's good mood seemed to evaporate instantly. "If I don't come home, don't volunteer for the Games." Ninevah still grinned, and I punched her shoulder gently. "This goes for you too, Ninevah."

"Wait, what?" Ninevah asked, her face falling. "But we made a promise, Arabia. Raqqa and I were going to prove ourselves if you couldn't."

"Not that I'm saying you can't," Raqqa said quickly. "But Arabia, why are you saying this? You always wanted to be in the Games."

"Mom and Dad are scared of me dying," I said softly, "and I'm scared too."

There was a thick silence in the Goodbye Room as my mother leaned against my father's shoulder and my sisters stared wide-eyed at me. I took a deep breath before continuing.

"I've always seen the Games as my way to prove myself. But me succeeding at that and becoming Victor isn't guaranteed. I've always realized that, but the way Dad was crying when he came in to say goodbye made me realize how much I would be missed if I died." I looked at my father, who nodded slowly. "So Raqqa, Ninevah, whatever you do, don't volunteer for the Games. Stay with Mom and Dad and find another way to prove yourselves."

My younger sisters nodded in understanding. "Okay, Arabia," Raqqa said. She turned to our parents. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Ninevah mumbled.

"Arabia," my mother said softly, getting up from her seat across the room and hugging me tightly, "you've really grown into a mature young lady. Thank you so much for understanding me and your father. It… means a lot to us."

"Mom, it's okay," I said, my voice breaking as tears threatened to pour out of my eyes. I couldn't cry, not when I was supposed to be a tough Career. "I'll do my best. I promise."

"We'll miss you," Ninevah said sincerely, wrapping her arms around us.

"Please make it back to us," my father said, standing up and joining the hug.

"I'll try," I gasped as Raqqa joined the group hug. "I swear to all of you that I'm going to really, really try my best."

We sat there, my entire family, all hugging each other, until the Peacekeepers came to take everyone away. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alone.

I took a deep breath. I would have to prepare as much as I could for what was coming next.

-END-

* * *

Eulogy

To be perfectly honest, I thought Caleb portrayed Arabia a little differently than I expected. It was mostly that she seemed kinder and sweeter than I was going for, but in the end I'm happy with how she was written. She was focused on her goal of winning the Games and therefore was the least extra Career in her Games, and sometimes being not extra is the kindest thing to do. Trivia time, Arabia was actually submitted to District 1 because I loved the idea of a District 1 girl who was super different from the norm and proud of it. Still, she worked pretty well in District 4. She looked different with her darker skin tone and prided herself in her intelligence and cunningness rather than her beauty and charm.

ARABIA! I knew that you were a goner as soon as I saw the lyrics on top of your POV, but I'm still proud of you for what you accomplished throughout these Games. You were smart and strategic, and made all the right moves up until your death. You wanted to prove that you could win the Games even though you were different, and you came close, but you didn't know about Ember's cunning nature. I don't blame you for falling to Ember, because that was very well played on her part. Rest in peace, Arabia, and I hope you know that I'm proud of you.

* * *

 **A/N: As you can see, I'm experimenting with different writing styles in _Portraits of Panem_. Lily's one-shot was third-person past, Ambrose's one-shot was first-person present, and now Arabia's one-shot is first-person past. I plan on writing third-person present and third-person omniscient one-shots as well later down the line.**

 **I kind of used Arabia's one-shot to explain why she turned out nicer than usual in _Free Falling_. I also gave her friends because I didn't include any friends in her original form, oops.**

 **Please do let me know what you think!**


	6. Pine Heart

**A/N: No, I haven't abandoned this! Portraits is definitely taking a backseat to my other projects, but I do plan on sending off all my deceased tributes eventually. I'm posting Pine Heart's one-shot now because it's been forever since I submitted him but he deserves a final send-off. Without further ado, please enjoy.**

* * *

Tribute Statistics

 **Name:** Pine Heart  
 **District:** 5  
 **Gender Reaped as:** Male  
 **Age:** 17  
 **First completed story submitted to:** _Over the Edge: Book One_ by IVolunteerAsAuthor  
 **Training Score:** 5 in the First Quarter Quell (story originally submitted to); unknown in the Third Quarter Quell  
 **Kills:** 1 in the First Quarter Quell (Eve Sumac of District 7); unknown in the Third Quarter Quell  
 **Cause of death:** Victorious in the First Quarter Quell; died in the Third Quarter Quell (specific cause of death unknown)  
 **Time of death:** Died in the Third Quarter Quell, fifty years after the original story's end (specific time of death unknown)  
 **Placement:** 1st out of 25 in the First Quarter Quell; 11th out of 24 in the Third Quarter Quell

* * *

The City Square of District 5 is somber as the citizens of the District file in for the Reaping. The mood is different this year, the Third Quarter Quell. There's a visible lack of tension in the air. The mood is still gloomy, sure, but I can feel everyone relaxing because their children are safe this year. They're trying to hide their relief for our sakes, but I know that if I were in their situation I'd be feeling the same way.

To say that I'm scared is an understatement. In just a few minutes I might be picked to head back to the Arena, the place I thought I had escaped for life when I emerged victorious from the 25th Annual Hunger Games. But then the Quell Twist was announced - Victors will go into the Games - and my world turned upside down.

The thought of going into the Games again terrifies me. I'm sixty-seven years old, and even as a teenager I didn't have much going for me. It was pure luck that got me out of the First Quarter Quell alive. Well, luck and good allies, but I was lucky to have those allies in the first place. I still don't know why my District Partner decided to ally with me in the beginning, and how Athena, Rowena, and Troy ended up in the alliance as well. They were good allies, but they all died, and for what? So that I could live, accidentally take part in a failed rebellion, and send kids off to their deaths year after year?

 _You got to raise a family, Pine._

I sigh and smile wearily as I make eye contact with my wife, Elena. She's standing in the roped-off section of female Victors along with Porter and Liv, solemn but clearly trying to look brave and optimistic about this situation. That's one of the things I love about her. Unlike me, she doesn't beat herself up when things go wrong, and she never fails to keep trying for the sake of herself, me, the kids, and our friends. When she was Reaped for the 29th Games, there was something about her that drew me to her, even though I knew that I couldn't get attached to the tributes I mentored. But Elena Soul prevailed, and she's been my rock ever since.

"Ava's taking care of the kids, Pine," Elena calls over to me from her section. "We'll meet up with them after this is over."

I nod, turning my attention back to the stage and not wanting to make my wife worry by voicing my fears that one or the both of us won't be walking home to our house in the Victors' Village after the Reaping is over. I swallow a lump in my throat as I imagine having to go into the Quarter Quell along with Elena. How will I survive? How will our children cope with losing both their parents, or seeing their father unable to save their mother? How will our grandchildren hold up as they learn that their grandpa and grandma aren't coming home?

I never had a real family as a kid. Cinder Heart, my biological father, died in a power plant accident when I was four years old, leaving behind his pregnant wife - Bright Maple Heart, my biological mother - and me. My younger sister Spark died before her first birthday. When I was six Bright married Dad, an unstable man named Will Clarence who brought with him Lizabeth, his eight-year-old daughter from a previous relationship.

Dad and Lizabeth were bad enough - they were always impulsive and complaining about something or another - but it got worse. When I was eight Bright gave birth to my half-siblings, a girl named Daisy Clarence and a boy named Dustin Clarence. Things were okay for a few years, but then when I was fourteen Daisy and Dustin were found dead with multiple stab wounds. Bright confessed to murdering them, and she was executed for her crime.

Of course, I could no longer call Bright "Mom" after what she did, even though to this day I still have a sneaking suspicion that Bright wasn't who really killed the twins. She seemed too nice, even though she made the bad decision of marrying Dad.

Just a year after Bright was executed, Dad married Katherine Hyde, the woman I called "Mom" when I was Reaped. Mom brought with her rebellious ideas, getting Dad and Lizabeth into anarchy and tagging. At the tender age of fifteen, I ended up fearing for my life as I tried in vain to protect my family and stop them from ruining themselves.

After I came back from the First Quell, Dad was executed, and Mom and Lizabeth were sent to prison for life. I visited them in jail once a month the first year, but my visits became less and less frequent and eventually stopped when it became clear that my presence wasn't welcome. I kept telling Mom and Lizabeth that I really tried my best to keep all of us out of trouble, and that I would visit regularly if it made them feel better.

They told me my visits didn't make them feel better. They even went as far as to tell me it was my fault that they were in jail for life. And the sad truth is that they weren't wrong. It was me who let Curie go when she stumbled upon our hideout.

Mom is long gone, and Lizabeth died in prison two years ago. I still blame myself for failing to protect my family, and sometimes they feature in my nightmares, along with Curie, Eve, and the kids I failed to save year after year.

To be honest, I feel it's stupid, beating myself up over things that happened decades ago, but when you're as old as I am it's hard not to think about everything that went wrong in your formative years. Elena says that it's okay and understandable for me to have nightmares about and feel guilt over what happened in my youth, but the best thing I can do for myself is to carry on for myself and my loved ones despite everything.

And even though it's been hard sometimes, I've been trying my best to follow her advice. Elena, Ava, Wyatt, Lark, Claire, and Calem are the best family a guy like me could ask for, and every day I try my best for my wife, my kids, and my grandchildren. We aren't perfect, and we do get into fights sometimes, inevitably for a large family like mine. But I'm grateful that my new family at least stays out of trouble. After over seventeen years of trying to protect a dysfunctional family, I finally found with my new family love and acceptance, without any of the emotional scarring my old family gave.

"Where's Geoffrey? He can't hide in his house during a time like this."

The voice of Liv Newton, Five's most recent Victor at thirty-five years old, brings me back to the present. I realize that the Square is quieting down as the Mayor takes the stage. I look around me, see that I'm still the only person standing in the section for male Victors, and am immediately reminded of the stakes.

Just when I thought I could grow old in peace with my family, the Quell Twist was announced, and I may die before I'm ready after all.

 _I'm not ready to die. I'm not ready to lose Elena._

Sure, sending kids off to die year after year sucks, but dying would mean never seeing my family again… and Elena dying would mean my family would never be the same again… my throat tightens as I realize that District 5 only has two living male Victors. Lenovo Cane, Victor of the 31st Games, died of a heart attack before he even reached his fiftieth birthday. This means that I have a fifty-percent chance of going into the Arena again.

 _Fuck._ I knew this all along, but the weight of that statistic is stronger than ever at this moment of reckoning. We have three living female Victors - Elena Soul, Liv Newton, and Porter Millicent Tripp - so what does that make the chances of me going into the Arena with Elena? Fifty percent, times thirty-three percent… I've never been good at math. I'm frantically calculating the odds in my head, trying to distract myself from my impending doom, when two Peacekeepers shove their way through the crowd, carrying a clearly unconscious Geoffrey Sparks. My eyes widen as I spot the Victor of the 48th Games. He looks to be in terrible shape. Have I really been so preoccupied with my family that I failed to maybe realize that there was something _wrong_ when Geoffrey refused every day to come out of his house?

"Geoffrey?" I ask tentatively as the man wakes, standing up with wobbly legs. His eyes dart around wildly as the Peacekeepers stop supporting him, leaving him to stagger around the roped-off section.

Geoffrey babbles something unintelligible as the Mayor starts talking. I tentatively take a step forward and support the younger man, letting him lean against me. I catch the scent of hard alcohol on his breath, and I try not to pass out from the smell, Geoffrey's weight, and my own nerves.

 _Oh god, the Reaping is in a few minutes. Me or Elena or both of us could be sent into the Games in a few minutes…_

~.~

On my third day in the Arena, I hear a rumbling sound.

I look up and see a monstrous wave of water towering over the trees. I know there's no escaping death now, even if I run.

"I love you, Elena!" I yell as my survival instinct takes over and I start running down the hill. I know that there's no way I can outrun the wall of water, but I have to at least go down fighting.

"I love you, Ava," I say loudly, hoping that my family can hear my parting words to them over the roar of the wave. I continue running, looking up to where I hope a camera can see my face. "I love you, Wyatt. I love you Lark, I love you Claire, I love you Calem, I love you all, take care-"

The wave pushes me over, and I start drowning.

At least Elena didn't have to die along with me. My last thoughts before the world goes dark is that I hope she and my family will be okay.

-END-

* * *

Eulogy

Pine was the very first tribute of mine who was submitted to a story that finished. Crazily enough, I got ridiculously lucky, and my first tribute in a finished story was also my first Victor. Pine was intended for District 12, hence his plant-based name, but I submitted him to District 5 because at that time I already had a D12M in another story. Pine was one of my earliest tributes, so looking back I don't think his form was the best, but Caleb managed to do an amazing job with my timid, protective Victor nonetheless.

Pine, I'm so proud of you. Even though you were dead by the end of the trilogy, you still won your first Games, and that took a lot of luck, help from allies, and quick thinking on your part. It's really bad luck that you were Reaped into the Victors' Quell fifty years after you won the 25th Games. You may have died in a Hunger Games despite surviving one, but at least you got to grow old and raise a lovely family. Rest in peace Pine, my very first Victor.


End file.
